Nothing, this side of God, do men revere, as they revere virtuous women. Let it be known among men, that the victims of their lust have been taken under your protection, and the whole aspect of the question would instantly change. Instead of looking upon the unhappy ones as fair game, men would suddenly become conscious that they were dealing with your friends, and, therefore, with you. A SHORT SERMON ABOUT MATRIMONY. I would address those young women who want husbands. There are such; I have noticed them. Girls, if any of you have really made up your minds that you "wouldn't marry the best man that ever lived, there!" skip this little sermon, because it really has no interest for you. Men will shut their ears if they have a spark of delicacy; for every word of this is private and confidential. MY TEXT. The text, or rather the occasion for what I am about to say on the subject of marriage, was this:-- About a week ago, a young woman of twenty-six (she said twenty-six, so I am sure about her age,) came to me in regard to her health; and after the professional conversation was finished, we fell into a general and pleasant chat. She was delightfully frank, and said, while we were discussing the ever fruitful subject of matrimony,-- "I wish I was little." "That is too bad," I replied; "I have been admiring your grand, queenly proportions ever since you came in; and now you spoil it all by showing that you are not grateful." "I can't help it; I wish I didn't weigh more than eighty pounds, and wasn't more than four and a half feet high." "I am shocked! Do tell me what makes you wish so?" "To be frank with you, the reason is just this: Men are so fond of saying, 'My little wife.'" I laughed, thinking it was intended as a bright speech; but her flushed face assured me that, instead, she was uttering her very heart. "Go on," I said, "tell me your thoughts." "My thoughts are just these; and I believe they are the thoughts of all unmarried marriageable women. I long for nothing this side of heaven as I do to bury all my uncertainties and anxieties in the love of a husband. Eagerly would I make any sacrifice to secure this precious treasure. But I fear there is nothing left for me but to be sneered at as an old maid. So while I might otherwise be grateful for what you choose to call my queenly proportions, I can only wish I was one of the little women whom men seem to fancy." I shall not tell you any more of this conversation, and my friend will excuse this much, as a text for my little sermon. Only she and I will know to whom this refers. I wonder if it is improper to speak plainly about what so many are thinking of. I will venture a little. Now don't take on airs and turn up your noses. My hair is of a color which might introduce me to you in the character of father. I shall speak very plainly. It cannot compromise anybody, for, as I told you, this is all private and confidential. YOU WANT HUSBANDS.